Popping in with another fabulous sourdough enhancement: cracked all-the-grain sourdough.

The bakery uses a grain mix, and since the mix has nine grains, we call the bread “cracked 9-grain”, but you can use as many (or as few) grains as you like and name it accordingly.

I used some of the bakery’s grain blend — this is similar, I think — for these two loaves, but you can make your own grain mix with any combo of wheat berries, rye, oats, millet, rice, buckwheat, flax seed, barley, corn, spelt, etc, etc, etc.

Thick slices of this grainy bread toasted and topped with loads of butter and a drizzle of honey makes for a pretty darn spectacular breakfast…

…even when the pan loaf you made this week overproofs wildly.

Oops.

Cracked ALL-The-Grain Sourdough

2 pounds sourdough (half of this recipe)
100 grams grain mix (like this or this)
100 grams water
¼-½ cup rolled oats, for the topping

The night before making the bread, combine the grain and water in a bowl, cover, and set on the counter at room temperature overnight. 

The next morning, make the dough. Let it rest for 30 minutes. Drain off any excess water (it’s fine if the grain is a little soppy), and then fold the grain mixture into the dough the same way the chocolate and cherries were added to the bread in this recipe.

Rest the dough for another 30 minutes and then fold. Repeat this rest/fold step 2-3 more times.

After the final fold, let the dough bulk proof for 3-5 hours.

Shape the dough into a batard, boule, pan loaf, whatever. Put the rolled oats on a plate. Spritz the top side of the loaf with water and roll it in the oats so they stick to the loaf. Proof the loaf overnight. 

The next morning, score the loaf and bake at 400 degrees (in a Dutch oven, on a baking stone, in loaf pans, whatever) for about 35 minutes. 

This same time, years previous: live it well, the quotidian (7.5.21), the quotidian (7.6.20), pulling together, three things about writing, let’s revolutionize youth group mission trips! please!, grilled flatbread, red raspberry lemon bars.

Quotidian: daily, usual or customary;
everyday; ordinary; commonplace

All-the-berries crumble.

Lunchy nibbles.

Because Reese’s don’t have enough peanut butter.

All the flavors, all the textures, all the comfort.

Colby.

Lunch buddy.

Torn pad.

Cows and baby toes.

Shower demo.

Maryland and NYC — and Carnegie Hall! — bound.

He dwarfs his papa.

This same time, years previous: a walk in the woods, so much milk, fruity whey popsicles, a few fun things, so you’re thinking of homeschooling…, cucumber mint cooler, Vieques!, the quotidian (7.2.17), the summer’s first trip, a bunch of stuff, when the wind blew, berry almond baked oatmeal, linguine with shrimp and cilantro-lime pesto.

Absent any pressing need for me to cook, garden, escape, I slump.

mead in the making

You all know this — I’ve said it many times — but to quick recap: for two decades, my family was my life’s backbone, giving me structure and purpose, as well as something to rail against and escape from. And now that that’s (mostly) done, I’ve got to figure out what to do. 

sour cherries, lemons, raisins, honey, pre-blending

In some ways, this problem is a gift: many people can only dream of such freedom, and it’s all I dreamed of when the children were little. But I also think that many people (me included) who say they want this freedom really don’t. They (I) will do anything and everything to avoid getting sucked down into the abyss of the gaping void of “why does this even matter” and “who am I anyway”. 

aeration via the creation of a cyclone

To put it another way: sometimes the busyness becomes the fuel, the reason for Doing. We have to do it, we say, and as long as we believe that, we’ve got something to safely rail against. Because once an element of choice is introduced — I don’t absolutely have to do this, so why am I? — suddenly there’s a gaping void. 

It’s unmooring. 

Day five: we have fermentation, wheeeee!

To be clear, in my situation doing something like taking a job or going back to school or taking up watercolors, just for the sake of doing it, is not gonna cut it. Sure, I can (and do) fill my days with stay-busy activities, but those things don’t even begin to come close to meeting my need for a bigger purpose. I need to need it, or it needs to need me, whatever “it” is. That’s what I’m figuring out.

watching the fruit slowly swirl and the water in the airlock bubble as the mead off-gases

I’m doing all the things I know I should do, that I want to do, to keep me healthy and on the right track: exercise, community involvement, expanding my social circles, and in the darkest of times, cleaning. I also I signed up for a four-week kickboxing course that’s cheerfully whupping my butt, two months of hip-hop and jazz classes that haven’t started yet (can’t wait!), and I auditioned for a play. I figured burning off my angsty energy and pushing myself to do new things in my body might help ground me.

Or at least help me sleep better.

This same time, years previous: family road trip: Boston, the coronavirus diaries: week seventeen, burnt cheesecake, roasted zucchini parmesan, twist and shout, the quotidian (6.30.14), fútbol!, dark chocolate zucchini cake, a break in the clouds.